He went back to the porch and stood in the sunshine waiting with renewed patience.
Ten minutes later a moist nose nozzled its way into his hand. He looked down into Cork's eyes of faithful friendliness. Then, hearing a light footfall, he turned. Olga had come back to him at last.
Straight to him she came, moving swiftly. Her face was still pale and very wan, but the strained look had utterly passed away. Her eyes sought his with fearless confidence, and Nick's heart gave a jerk of sheer relief. He had expected tragedy, and he beheld—peace.
She reached him. She laid her hands upon his shoulders. A tremulous smile hovered about her lips. "Nick—Nick darling," she said, "why—why—why didn't you tell me all this long ago?"
He stood before her dumb with astonishment. For once he was utterly and completely at a loss.
She slipped her hand through his arm, and drew him out. "Let us go into the sun!" she said. And then, as the glow fell around them, "Oh, Nick, I'm so thankful that I know the truth at last!"
"Are you, dear?" he said. "Well, I certainly think it is time you knew it now."
"I ought to have known it sooner," she said. "Why did you—you and
Max—let me believe—a lie?"
He hesitated momentarily. "We thought it would be easier for you than the truth," he said then.
"You mean Max thought so," she said quickly. "You didn't, Nick!"